


Mirror Room

by SoupRegrets



Category: Original Work
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/F, Finger Sucking, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sort Of, Trans Female Character, it's basically tentacle porn if we're being totally honest here, really wanted to emphasize that, what if the mean lady was literally invisible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoupRegrets/pseuds/SoupRegrets
Summary: "Nobody ever leads you to a mirror-walled room for a wholesome reason," Mira thought to herself.As usual, she was right.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	Mirror Room

**Author's Note:**

> At one point in my life, I wondered why all the ideas in my head were either really horny or really stupid, until I had this astounding realization: "Why not both?"
> 
> (The main character of this piece is trans, and I generally refer to her genitals as "her dick". Nothing penetrative happens here, aside from the fingers in mouth bit. The sex, while consensual, is part of a deal the protagonist agrees to in order to avoid negative repercussions.)

"Here we are." She murmurs, slipping the blindfold up and off my head, revealing...myself?

My own dark-haired, awkwardly naked reflection stares back at me. She's taken me to some sort of mirror room; the walls and ceiling are all made of what looks like perfectly reflective glass. In every direction, I stare at multiple copies of myself, each of them kneeling obediently with her wrists bound. Do I really look that compliant, especially in a situation like this? Huh.

"Do you remember the agreement we made, Mira?" I hear her voice as if she were right behind me, despite being alone in the room. She's using my pseudonym and not my real name, too, a surprisingly gracious gesture, since by this point she'd have most definitely been able to find out my true identity and turn me in. "You agreed that if you did whatever I asked to help me test out the device I've invented, I would forget you ever tried to steal from me and I would let you go, no repercussions."

There's not much point in her reminding me, given that I came back to her home willingly, fully intending to accept her little deal. Given the amount of evidence she had on me, there wasn't any way I couldn't. And she promised that there was no risk of the test run being lethal, so... "Yes. I'm not sure why I need to have my...everything exposed like this, but I remember."

"Good. Are you ready to get started?"

"Erm, yes." I still have no idea what she's planning on using this room for, or how she sounds like she's right behind me, even though she's nowhere to be seen.

"Excellent."

By themselves, the restraints around my wrists go slack and slide off. Um. "So are those supposed to stay on, or, um..." I have no idea why I'm asking, or how what just happened could have happened.

"No, they're not necessary anymore." Her calm, cordial tone suddenly disappears, replaced by something unnervingly authoritative and well-practiced. "...now, sit on the floor, legs apart, arms behind your back. If you do not do so, I will do it for you." I do as she says, afraid despite the fact that she's still nowhere to be seen. "First, some basic checks."

I suddenly feel someone's hands on my shoulders, touching and rubbing, and whip around quickly, yet she's still nowhere to be seen. The hands disappear from my shoulders, replaced by a quiet warning issued directly into my left ear. "I just gave you an order." Inexplicably, her breath is hot in my ear. Even more inexplicably, it sends a shudder down my spine.

Quickly, I return to my spot on the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I have no idea where the uncharacteristic apologies falling from my mouth are coming from. Maybe I feel exposed without any clothes on, or maybe her sudden adoption of an aggressive tone is throwing me off. Maybe it's both.

"From now on, you need to hold still. As well as you can, in any case."

Before I have a chance to respond, I feel the hands grasp the underside of my thighs, squeezing and massaging their way up towards my bottom. My back twitches and I straighten up involuntarily, letting out a little yelp. "F-fuck! W-where--"

"Good! You can feel it." The hands dig their nails into the sensitive skin on my inner thighs, leaving light scratches with no visible cause. I can see the depressions in my own thighs where the hands--her hands, somehow, presumably--are grabbing me, digging into the soft flesh. "To answer your question, yes, they are my hands. And your thighs are lovely, by the way." She squeezes them again. "Very soft." She lets go.

I scramble backwards, shaking and panting, and press my back up against the wall. "Yes, yes, that should be fine now. Now that I know it works, it won't matter where in the room you are." Her voice has a certain vicious triumphance to it, as if she were delighted that her invention both worked and was able to torment me like this. "Excellent!"

I look across the room at my own reflection. The girl in the mirror looks scared and overwhelmed, her cheeks flushed red and her nipples hard from the cold air, while her estrogenized penis hangs its short length down between her legs, apparently just as frightened as she is. It takes a moment to realize that the girl is me, and when I do, I suddenly realize just how vulnerable I am.

"It's the surprise, isn't it?" She speaks again. I flinch, expecting her hands to come back, but they don't. "You wouldn't be reacting this way if you could see it coming, or defend yourself against it." Her tone is at once curious and most definitely sweetly sadistic. "But I'm no sadist. I'll keep things slow and gentle, so long as you do what I say. Lift up your arms."

I cross my arms and squeeze them together, almost as if by instinct. "Wait! Can you...can you please give me a minute?"

A long pause.

"Yes, of course. I apologize. We can go as slow as you need." She pauses again. "We could even stop, if you'd like."

I breathe out shakily, rubbing my arms and trying to get rid of the paranoia she's instilled in me. "You...was that enough testing?"

Another short silence.

"Yes, I've checked that the basic functionality works." Her tone is noticeably more restrained than it was just a few sentences ago. "Do you...want to stop?"

"I thought the deal was that I would help you test it?" I suddenly notice the liquid gathering at the tip of my dick, an oddly clear sign of arousal given the circumstances.

"You've done enough testing for me at this point, I think." The awkwardness in her voice betrays the obvious lie; she wants to do more, though where one motivation ends and another begins for her is unclear at best.

I stay silent for a long while, recovering and leaning back against the wall. "If we keep going, and I tell you to stop...will you?"

"Yes. You've done enough for me to pay me back."

"Then..." I can't believe I'm saying this. "...let's keep going."

"Good...good!" She sounds relieved. "You are sure you're...enjoying this?"

"I was just startled, that's all." I try and fail to keep my face neutral. "I think what you've made is...interesting."

"Hah." Her voice dips into its lower, sultry, commanding register again. I can almost hear the smirk on her face. "If that's the case, tell me, what do you think I could do that would make this the most _interesting_ possible experience for you?" I swear I can feel her fingers teasing the back of my neck.

"I'll let you decide." My thumb taps my thighs nervously. I'm lying, since it would be far too embarrassing to say what I really wanted out loud. "It...I think it would be more fun for me that way."

She lets out a long, satisfied hum. I'm not sure if she bought it. "I see. In that case, I'll keep how I'm going to fuck you a surprise." She puts extra emphasis on the uncharacteristic expletive, and something about the way she drops the pretense and shifts back into her domineering tone sends a rapid, unexpected rush of arousal down my body and into my groin. "Now, kneel down on the floor. Keep your arms at your side." I shift uncomfortably and do as she says, hyperaware of the fact that her gaze must be on me. If I could tell where it was, I'd probably avoid it.

"Does being talked down to like that turn you on?" She chuckles into my ear and lets her fingertips lightly skim across my breasts. I stiffen up despite the fact that she's barely touched me. "I'm glad it does. Being someone else's plaything suits you well."

"Um, thank you?" I'm not quite sure how to respond.

"Is that any way to address your superior?"

"Thank you...Miss?"

"Mistress." Two of her fingers gently squeeze my nipple, though not hard enough to cause any actual pain. Not yet, at least.

"Thank you, Mistress!" I squeak out. My response is immediate, unthinking, embarrassing, and what she had clearly wanted this whole time: submission.

"Good girl." She lets her fingers trace lazy circles around my nipples, keeping her touch light and teasing. I fidget with my fingers and let the bottom half of my legs splay out on the floor beneath me, trying to compensate for the fact that it feels as though she's invisibly pressed herself up against my back and slid her arms beneath mine while she teases me. "I considered keeping the blindfold on, but the idea of seeing a pretty girl's face as I push her over the edge, whether she wants to or not, was too...tempting." Her voice is getting lower and breathier, the restraint I'd heard earlier diminishing by the second.

"How does the machine work?" I ask, attempting to distract her and possibly quell the rush of fearful arousal inspired by her predatory affect.

"Transfer of energy pulses through the S&M spectrum." She continues to speak in exactly the same desirous tone as before, though I can detect no hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Is the S&M spectrum a real thi--" I'm cut off by the sensation of her dragging her nails across the side of my breasts, making me squeal.

"Most people call it the MS spectrum, for Marskowitz-Sieber, the pair who discovered it. But scientific texts use the S&M acronym, so I'm used to it." She lets her hands slide down to my stomach. "It lets me feel everything, and gives me the physical strength to...overcome obstacles in my way, should they arise." She rests her hands on the top of my thighs, letting her fingers slide their way into the small crevice between them. "So, to answer your question, my machine works very well."

I part my thighs meekly and let her between, a strange blend of shame and arousal spreading across my body. "Good girl." She nibbles at my ear and takes my semi-erect dick in her hand. I resist the urge to snap my legs shut, melting back into her as she takes a finger and feels the wetness at the tip.

"Hah, miss, please--"

"Mistress." She pulls her finger away. A string of clear liquid trails from my dick to her invisible finger, hanging in the air, suspended by nothing. "You remember, don't you?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Yes, Mistress."

"Since you're an obedient girl who spreads her legs when her owner tells her to, I'll forgive this." She squeezes my dick. I jerk back into her, but since she still has my back pressed up against her front, there's not exactly anywhere to go. 

"Thank you, Mistress!"

"Good girl." She hums into my ear, and her voice drops back into that sweeter, almost playful tone. "And are you sure there's nothing you'd like to...try out?"

"Ah, um..." She caught my lie. I feel a little silly asking, but since I'm already here, I might as well enjoy the situation to its fullest, I reason. Or rationalize, maybe. "Could you do something like, um, pin my wrists up above my head while you, um, yeah?"

"You want to be restrained while I do...what?" She brushes a strand of my hair out of my face.

"Please hold me down so I can't move while you fuck me, Mistress!" I blurt out my desires quickly. Of course she'd want to make me say it out loud. Of course she would.

She laughs. "You really are the perfect test subject, aren't you?" Before I have a chance to ask what she means by that, I feel her move away from me, the sensation of her skin on mine disappearing into the nothingness it came from. "Luckily for you, those were exactly the experimental features I wanted to test out." I feel her hands grasp mine and guide me to a standing position with my back pressed up against the nearby wall. "Now..."

I feel her hands grasp my bottom and linger there for a moment, making me wonder what her plan is. Before I can think too much about it, she slides her hands down to the underside of my thighs and lifts, raising me up as she lets my back rest on the wall behind me. Either she's strong enough to lift me up on her own, or the machine she's using lets her exert far more force than she normally can. Whichever one it is, she's clearly capable of overpowering me, and that thought alone sends a little shudder throughout my body.

"You see," Still propped up by my thighs, I feel her hand stroke across my face. "I love watching you fall to pieces for me, but...I only have two hands." She lets her fingers trace over my jawline, then grasps my chin in her hand. "I always wanted to overcome that limitation, so I made this chamber." She tilts my head back, and I feel yet more hands wrap around my wrists and pull them up above me, pinning my arms above my head. Her voice suddenly takes on a smug tone. "I'm very happy with how it turned out. I've wanted to find out what I could do for so, so long." The hand on my chin lets go, and I feel fingers stroke across my lips. I let out a little whine as I feel my thighs being spread apart.

"I want to make a bet with you." Her voice takes on a haughty, powerful quality. I feel my dick twinge. "I'm going to make you beg me to let you come, and if--no, WHEN you do, you're going to come back and help me 'test' again." Her breath is hot in my ear.

"A-and if I hold back?" I feel her running a teasing finger along the inside of my thighs, and they shake a little involuntarily.

"We'll figure it out." What feels like her entire body suddenly presses up against my front, spreading my legs even wider than they were before. Her hand on my face disappears and I feel her suddenly grasp my ponytail, yanking downward and forcibly tilting my head upward. I yelp, my eyes watering at the sudden pain. "Now spread your legs so I can fuck you." She growls into my ear as I blink back tears. I do as she says, cowed by how suddenly aggressive she is, the heat from her body pressed up to my skin as she humps into me. My back arches instinctively and I tug my wrists forward, but I can't; her grip around them is tightened, and my arms might as well be encased in iron for all the good struggling is doing for me. She rams into me again, flattening my dick between my body and hers, and it hurts a little, but more than that, it feels good. Really good. Far better than it probably should, given how little stimulation I'm actually getting, but somewhere in my brain it feels _right_ in a way I can't quite explain.

"Mmh, ah, ah--" Two thrusts, and my breath is already coming out in little whimpery begging noises. "Please, please--" I can't think of absolutely anything specific I'm begging her for; all I know is that I want more of whatever's happening right now.

"Good girl, good girl." She keeps thrusting into me, praising me all the while. I can feel her hot breath on my face. "You're such a good girl for me, aren't you? Showing me exactly what I want, splaying yourself out like this for me." I feel her grab my breasts, groping them roughly. It hurts. "And I get to keep you to all to myself." I can practically see her triumphant grin. "As many hands on you as I want, and I get to keep you all to myself." I feel her pinch and tug at my nipples, and the sensation is sharply painful enough that I can pick it out of all the rest.

"Yes, yes, Miss, Mistress--" I keep hearing little sobs and moans coming out of me, noises I didn't know I could make. "Please, please please--"

"Shh." She shushes me and pauses her assault, placing a gentle hand over my mouth. "I thought you wanted to avoid screaming? Do you want me to help you?" She asks sweetly.

Suddenly denied the aggression she had been displaying just a second ago, I shudder and try to recompose myself, taking several deep breaths. She takes the opportunity to push two fingers halfway into my mouth, hesitating a moment to see how I respond. I suck on them gently, signalling affirmation, and I feel her grip tighten on my thighs again.

"You can bite down on them, if you need to. It won't hurt me." She murmurs into my ear, immediately before picking me up off the wall and setting me on my back on the ground carefully. The hands return to my thighs and wrists, pinning me down and prying me open for her again. A long whine comes out of me, my fingers curling up and my nails digging into my palms.

I hear a satisfied-sounding "hmm" from her, immediately followed by her pushing her fingers farther into my mouth, signalling what she wants me to do. She starts up a gentle rhythm, thrusting her fingers in and out of my mouth, occasionally grazing my teeth, fingertips tapping on the innermost part of the roof of my mouth at the apex of each thrust, and bizarre as one part of my brain realizes the situation is, the rest can't see it as anything but hot.

I let out a little mewl after a particularly aggressive thrust, her fingers scissoring and dragging across my tongue, when she takes a moment to pulls me up into a sitting position, moving my arms from above my head to splayed out at my sides, hands that feel quite a bit larger than mine pinning mine to the floor from above. She leans me back into something else--either the wall or some other invisible structure I haven't seen yet, I reason, before any reasoning on my part is cut off by her continuing to fuck my mouth with her fingers. I moan loudly, and I can feel it reverberate. My skin is starting to feel hot, really hot, and when I look down I can see a red flush spreading across my body.

"Good girl, you're doing so good for me, so good, you know that?" For the first time, she sounds completely, outwardly lustful, any veneer of restraint or composure gone, just a woman greedily taking whatever she wants to take. She grasps my dick and squeezes, and I nearly wail at the sudden stimulation, choking out the sounds as best I can with her fingers down my throat. "Make some noise for me." I hear her order into my ear, her voice low and raspy. Her fingers stop thrusting and rest on my bottom lip instead.

"Mmh, yes, yes, please touch me, Mistress, please--" My voice comes out in little broken pieces, nonsensically begging for contact, any sort of contact--and she hears me and obliges, her hand around my dick starting to pump slowly. My back arches automatically, my arms tugging at the hands pinning mine down, but I'm completely trapped, and I can't move my arms at all. I feel her grab my chest, squeezing and kneading, but it's a different kind of touch than it was previously; it feels rougher, greedier, far more possessive than at any point before, as if I were her property and she couldn't care less how I felt about it. Somehow, that idea is a huge turn-on.

"I so want to keep you all to myself, to leave you with a toy in you, whimpering and on edge at home all day until I get there and you're begging me to fuck you and--" She's rambling hornily by now, speeding up on my dick and getting rougher everywhere else. I feel another pair of hands start groping and squeezing the underside of my thighs, and yet another come to rest on my hips, right below my waist. The sensation is utterly overwhelming, and my vision blurs with tears. "--and you'd be mine and I'd trap you under me and fuck you until it was too much and you begged me to stop and--"

My legs are shaking uncontrollably and little, pleading, wordless noises are escaping from the back of my throat, and all of it seems to only be driving her harder. The hands on my waist start stroking up and down my sides, occasionally, and the sensation is overstimulating and surprisingly reassuring, all at once.

Clear, slick fluid is dribbling out of me practically nonstop at this point, more than I've ever seen come out of me before. It drips down her fingers, a messy, transparent sheen coating the empty space where her hand is. I hear her exhale, letting go of my dick for a moment to slide the liquid between her fingers, giving them a bit of lubrication.

"Are you going to come for me?" She breathes into my ear. She isn't pumping at this point so much as squeezing my tip rhythmically, focusing her attention on the parts of me that make my spine curl and coax squeaks and whimpers out of me. There's a submissive, needy fog clouding my brain, and I can't focus on anything but the sensation of how she's touching me, how slick her hands are, how solid and stable and inescapable her grip feels on me, and the heat building up in my groin and core, a delirious, fiery nova of tension that I'm genuinely a little afraid might break me apart when it snaps.

"Yes, yes I will, please keep going, please, please--" I choke the words out, my chest so tight it feels like I can barely breathe.

"Don't come yet. Beg for it." She's taking long, controlled breaths, focused on keeping control of the situation and possibly herself as well.

"Please let me come, please let me come, Mistress, I'll do anything, just please let me--" I beg for her nonstop, acutely aware of the heat on my skin and how every touch sends a cacophony of jittery, tingling sensation through my body. I'm not even sure it's fully pleasure; part of it feels closer to just sensation, sensation that shoots through my nerves and seems to somehow penetrate the deepest parts of me, leaving me barely able to hold myself upright.

"Wait just a little more. You can hold out for me, right?" Her breaths are coming out shorter and punchier now, but her voice is surprisingly calm, and her words have the lecherous, nearly predatory quality that I know means she's getting off on this.

I can feel the coiled, burning energy at my core winding itself to its absolute tightest, tighter than I thought it could be. The heat is about to boil over, and I can already feel the beginnings of my orgasm washing over me, the churning energy feeling for just a second like it might slip out of me in a gentle, trembling wave instead of the massive, overwhelming explosion it should be, and somewhere in my fuzzy, addled brain I feel like if she doesn't let me come right now, nothing will ever be okay ever again. So I beg. "Please, I need to come, please let me come right now please I need--"

"Go." She says, and sinks her teeth into the sensitive spot at the base of my neck.

The instant she gives me permission, I let go. For just a little less than a moment, I feel my muscles tense and a noise start to form in the back of my throat, and then I'm not feeling much of anything except the heat spilling out all over my body as my back arches and my eyes squeeze shut and my toes curl and my fingertips dig into the hard, unyielding floor. It feels like my spine can't curve back enough, like my body can't contain what's happening to me, like there's a very real risk my orgasm might snap me in two. Her teeth on my neck tinge the whole thing with pain, and I can tell that my mouth is opening and breath is coming out of me, and that her hands are still on me, holding me in place, but nothing else.

I might have screamed. I wouldn't be able to tell.

She releases my neck from her vicious bite, and for just a second, I swear I hear her mutter "sorry".

I can hear little mewls and shuddery exhalations coming out of me as I come down from my high, and just for a bit, I let myself sit and recover, so that my breathing can steady again and the shaking wracking my body can stop. My legs take the longest to recover, and even when they start feeling moderately stable again, they still tremble, the slick liquid smeared across my inner thighs reflecting the light from above. Her hands stay on me all throughout my recovery, rubbing and massaging my skin, particularly the bite mark on my shoulder. It feels nice.

"You did very well." My skin feels really sensitive, in a good way. The rubbing feels nice. The praise doesn't hurt, either. "Can you stand?"

"Will you carry me if I can't?" I feel far more relaxed now, my head pleasantly fuzzy. Surprisingly, I feel safe and comfortable, though a little tired and chilly. Safe and comfortable enough to joke with her, at least.

"I will. Though I promise nothing when I have to lift you with my own strength." There's a long, hesitant silence. "Are you going to be spending the night?"

"You'd let me?"

"It seems like the...right thing to do."

"And I can still go after that? No strings attached?"

"Yes. And you can take your clothes, and your things, and...the files you stole."

I groan. "...then why did you stop me in the first place?"

I hear her exhale, then speak. "I prioritize...personal projects over work. They're low-level clerical files. Nobody will question their absence."

"Then..." I flop onto my back, arms extended above my head. "I think I will stay the night. I'd prefer a bed, though. And I think I'll need a shower before that." I stretch out my sore muscles. "Wow, if I'd known it would be this much effort, I would've tried harder not to let you catch me."

"You really have no guilt whatsoever about theft, do you?"

"It's not hurting you, is it?"

"That's not the point!"

"I'm too tired for this." I yawn and close my eyes. "You could consider this time a...trade, if you'd like. Also, if you let me stay here I'll probably take your spare key and go through your filing cabinet again if I need to. Just letting you know."

I feel her hand rest on my shoulder. "I will provide information to you, if you ask. But I expect you will perform more...trades with me, in exchange."

"I could, I guess..." I say, looking up at my own reflection. I don't particularly feel proud of the fact that I would describe the expression I didn't realize I was making as "satisfied", nor the fact that I would sum up the rest of my appearance as, put succinctly, "well-fucked", but...

"You don't want to? It's much more honest than simple theft."

"Ugh..." I don't want to admit how much I enjoyed her having so much power over me, and I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with how much the idea of her doing more to me colors my cheeks red. I mean, I can't deny to myself that I want her to, but... "You tell me. Why should I?"

I expect her to point out how much I obviously loved it, how that makes it a clear, mutually beneficial trade, how she doesn't appreciate the thought of me stealing from her, but she doesn't say any of those things. Instead, she laughs at me, and that alone is enough to make my gut lurch.

"Because you made a bet, remember?"


End file.
